


A bit of a fancy evening

by HardiganCaptain



Category: Warrior (2011)
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardiganCaptain/pseuds/HardiganCaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was actually supposed to be another smut fic in a long line of smut fics. And it wound up just being adorable and fluffy with a hint of sass...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A bit of a fancy evening

The restaurant is nice, all crystal vases and candle light. You can’t help but being surprised that Tommy had even made reservations here when his preference is a bistro down the block. That he actually dug out a nice button up and tie to take you out to eat. You’d balked when there was an actual valet who came to park the car for you.

“Tommy?”

“What, I can’t take you nice places? Brendan and his wife ate here last week for their anniversary. Said it was nice and you might like it.” there was a self conscious edge to the smile he tries to show you.

“It’s nice, I just-“

The host interrupts you, standing near your elbow and staring at Tommy, you can’t help the scowl as he ignores you. Following him to the table, you can’t help feeling a bit off put by the fact it’s in the middle, you’d much rather have something less… out in the open. Tommy’s lip brushes your temple before he pulls the chair out for you, bringing a low chuckle to your throat. Staring down at the menu you can’t help but frown down at the prices, even just a simple side salad costs more than a meal at your regular eatery.

“You gonna nibble on the menu or you gonna order?” his voice is amused, before opening a menu himself, “God, you think they serve your food on a plate made of gold or what.”

Your laughter garners you looks from the tables around you, the judgement in them making you cough as the laughter peters off. Tommy leans across the table, the silverware clinking as he taps the tabletop to get your attention.

“Don’t even think about them stuck up bastards, what do they know? Probably got a silver spoon where the sun don’t shine, y’know?” you’re not sure if he said it loud enough for the nearest tables to hear on purpose but you still grin when you hear the offended gasps.

“Behave yourself, Conlon.” the reprimand doesn’t carry near the bite it could as you try to hold back laughter. “Jesus, can’t take you anywhere.”

He’s quiet, rolling his toothpick in the corner of his mouth, staring down at the menu growing more and more annoyed.

“They ain’t even got a philly on the menu. What kind of place is this?”

“Goddammit, Tommy.” you choke on the sip of water you were trying to take, coughing against the back of your wrist as the laughter escapes in bursts. 

“I mean it, and what the hell is Beef Bourguignon? How do you even say that, did I do that right?” You’re about ten seconds away from having hysterics as he slowly makes his way down the menu before finally coming to steak. “You think they fancied that up to? What could they possibly have done to a steak, right?”

“You going to ask for fries with that?” you lose the battle and laugh outright before wrangling your amusement back under control.

“You think they got ‘em?” 

Covering your mouth with your hand, you stifle the laughter down to giggles though the couple at the table beside you mutters something about low class. The waiter is at your table before you can think up a decent reply, asking for your orders. Shooting them a dark look, you wrinkle your nose in their direction before choosing some kind of pasta thing that almost looks familiar. When Tommy asks for fries with his steak, the waiter’s face makes you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom before you truly lose it.

It seems like that was a bad idea, Tommy’s face is too empty when you get back to the table, his hand flat on the table though it trembles slightly. The older woman at the table next to you looks smug and you can only hazard a guess at what she must have said to piss him off so badly. Sitting down you reach out to take a bread stick, hesitating when the woman at the table behind you gasps. Confused you almost drop the stick when your fingers fumble.

“You alright, Tommy?”

“Hmm? Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. Some people just ain’t Christian is all.”

“Neither are you, technically…”

“I got better manners than to talk about someone and not say it right to their face,” his voice is a low growl, eyes dark as he lifts them to look at you before shifting away.

Annoyed, you turn your attention to the woman who has the look of a cat with cream. Nibbling on the bread stick you mull over the possibility of whether or not they’d call the police if you tried to drown her in her soup. The look of surprise he sends you when you stand tells you that he was likely thinking the same thing, his mouth opening slightly in surprise when you grab his wrist to tug him from his chair.

“It’s a shame money can’t buy manners as easily as it can a fancy dinner, isn’t it? At least it can buy privacy, somewhere away from the smell of stale blue blood.” Nose in the air, you all but drag him to a corner table near the back.

“Where did that come from?” his voice is low, his lips brushing over your neck as his hand presses against your lower back. “Goddamn, you just, what was that?”

“They were pissing me off, Tommy. Who the hell do they think they are?”

“Rich?”

“That doesn’t make sense, Tommy.”

“Yeah, well I’m still reeling from that verbal back hand you sent that old broad. I think she’s still trying to pick her jaw off the table.” he leans back on his chair trying to spot your server, waving him down when he finds the poor man staring at their empty table confused.

The pasta is delicious, though there’s some kind of spice you couldn’t name if you’re life depended on it. The wine that the waiter recommended rolls over your tongue and makes the flavors spin on your tongue. You watch with amusement as Tommy goes to saw into the steak, surprised when the knife slides through easier than through butter. The dessert menu appears near your plate, jumping as you turn to try and catch the waiter to give it back.

“What’s that?”

“Dessert, it’s okay I don’t-“

“Pick something. We’ll split whatever it is.”

The waiter’s back for your decision before you even get a chance to get over the high prices for even the simplest things. Tommy raises an eyebrow at you so you just order some molten chocolate thing with a fancy name before handing it up to the waiting man.

“What is it with women and chocolate?”

“You like chocolate too, so does that make you a woman?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, lips thinning slightly as he fights the urge to grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You’re in a mood tonight, y-“

“Make that joke and you’ll be wearing dessert…”


End file.
